


All Work, No Play

by werelocked



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bodyguard, M/M, Rock Stars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 02:34:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2634800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werelocked/pseuds/werelocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles’ hand was still on Scott’s shoulder, a physical touch helping to ground both of them that they were not, in fact, dreaming. By that point the crowd had grown silent once more, waiting breathlessly for what happened next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wicaans](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicaans/gifts).



> Birthday fic for isaacsalpha.

Screaming fans were still something he was getting used to.

As the four of them - him, Stiles, Erica, and Kira - ran ontstage the yelling grew even more deafening.

“Damn, Scotty. Look at all these beautiful people out here tonight.” Stiles flashed him a grin as he lifted his microphone from the stand. “Can you believe they’re all here to see little old me? Stiles Stilinski?”

Scott laughed. “I don’t know, Stiles. I would say about half of them might be here to see Kira and Erica.”

“Please, they can barely see our little drummer back there. Stand up and say hi, Kira Yukimura!” Stiles crossed to the back of the stage and knelt before the raised section where the drum set rested.

A camera focused on Kira, broadcasting her on the giant screen hanging above the four of them. She gave the crowd a cheerful grin, flicking both middle fingers in Stiles’s direction.

“That hurts,” Stiles lamented, staggering to his feet with a hand over his heart. “At least you love me, don’t you Erica?”

The blonde on the stage’s left wing looked up from tuning her bass and nodded solemnly. “You bet, Batman.”

Stiles beamed, patting the yellow logo on his chest. “This is why you’re my favorite, Erica Reyes. You’re everyone’s favorite, right guys?” He held his microphone in the direction of the crowd, and the screams grew impossibly louder.

Blowing a kiss, Erica waited for the noise to die back down. “Thanks, sweetheart. But I think we all know why they’re really here. Everyone give it up for our very own Scott McCall!”

During the cheering that followed, Stiles joined Scott on the right stage wing and threw an arm around his shoulders. His best friend didn’t seem to feel Scott’s guitar jabbing him in the ribs or the sweat already building up on his shirt from the heat of all the stage lights.

Stiles himself seemed all lit up. His eyes were bright, his mouth pulled into a delighted grin. He was scanning the crowd of people in front of him, and the smile grew bigger when Scott caught his eye. 

They stayed like that for a moment, holding eye contact. Stiles’ hand was still on Scott’s shoulder, a physical touch helping to ground both of them that they were not, in fact, dreaming. By that point the crowd had grown silent once more, waiting breathlessly for what happened next. Stiles squeezed his shoulder.

Sticking his tongue out, Scott flashed a peace sign with his left hand. “I’m Scott, and we’re Nogitsune. Here we go, Atlanta. Let’s lose our minds!”


	2. Chapter 2

Kira crashed on the cymbals - once, twice - before rapidly banging out the last notes of their new song, Monstrous.

“That’s a single from our next album, _Smoke and Mirrors_. Make sure to pick it up when it drops next month.” Stiles stated. “Thanks for being rad as hell, Atlanta. Scott, play us out.”

“Why don’t you say we finish with a fan favorite?” Scott grinned. He strummed the intro of Code Breaker, the lead single of their first album that was one of the songs their fans requested the most.

He drew out the notes of the closing song, everyone else coming in gradually. Just as Stiles opened his mouth for the first verse, a commotion caught Scott’s eye.

Three rows from the stage, the line of fans rippled. Several people were shoved sideways and they clutched others for support. Two guys - one dressed in jeans and a tank top, the other shirtless with shorts and a baseball hat - were pushing each other. Their yelling was drowned out by the screams. A girl stood to the side them, pulling at their arms and gesturing frantically.

“Let’s settle down, guys.” Scott interrupted Stiles. “We’re having a good time, let’s end on a good note.”

Stiles squinted into the crowd, trying to figure out what Scott was addressing. As Stiles crossed the stage to Scott, baseball cap kid caught the other guy in a headlock. The girl was screaming now, more audible as more people starting noticing what was going on.

Scott waved his hand, gesturing for Kira and Erica to cut the noise completely. “Hey! Third row assholes!” The one in a baseball hat looked up and made eye contact with Scott. He reached out, grabbing a handful of hair from the screaming girl next to him, and yanked her toward the ground.

The next thing Scott knew his guitar was sliding across the floor from where he’d flung it and he was halfway off the stage. Stiles gripped his arm to keep him from leaping into the crowd as he cupped his own cheek with the other hand.

“Argent, get someone out there.” Scott could hear Stiles' voice through his headset as the singer spoke rapidly into the microphone of his headset. This one didn’t echo into the stadium, instead communicating with their head of security. “Middle third row. One girl, might need a doctor, two males.”

As Stiles began listing their descriptions, Scott could see Chris leading Derek and Boyd from backstage and into the crowd. The two boys struggled, though Boyd and Chris were larger than each of them and had no problem leading them away. Derek took the girl by the hand and lead her backstage for a medical assessment.

The rest of their fans had gone completely quiet as this had gone on. Boos and hissing had erupted as the boys were lead away. As soon as security had come out they opened up a wide enough gap for them, closing up after the girl was led away safely.

Now there were uneasy whispers as the fans waited for what they would do next. Erica tried easing into the intro again halfheartedly though it died out after a couple notes.

“Sorry guys. Looks like show’s over.” Scott said regretfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “We hate to let those assholes ruin such a wicked night, but this isn’t something we can ignore. Anybody who pulls shit like this - hitting girls or anyone for no fucking reason - isn’t considered a fan of ours.”

“Don’t be that guy,” Stiles added. “Or girl. Anyway, we were Nogitsune. Thanks for hanging out with us. Goodnight.”

~

“Fucking assholes,” Erica grunted. She cracked open a bottle of beer and took a swig. “This could have been our best show so far, if they hadn’t ruined it.”

“Have you heard if the girl’s okay?” Kira asked, looking at Scott.

He shrugged. “I haven’t heard from Argent or Derek since the show ended.”

The band was backstage waiting for word from their crew. They had packed up their stuff and were crowded together on the black leather couch in the green room off the side of the stage. All they had gotten was a barked order from Derek to “wait inside” fifteen minutes ago.

“I hope she’s fine.” Erica frowned. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “It didn’t look too bad from what I saw, but I was on the other side.”

“He didn’t have time to do much,” Scott nodded. “But she must’ve hit something when the guy pulled her hair, because she was holding her nose when Derek took her away.”

“Bastard might have broken her nose.” Erica growled. “I wish I could beat the shit out of him.”

“Like Scotty almost did?” Stiles laughed. “What were you thinking, trying to jump off the stage like that?”

Scott shrugged. “I just wanted to help her.” Stiles squeezed his knee. “Everyone should know if they come out to see us, that they’re going to be safe.”

“Speaking of which, it’s been a while since we heard from Chris.” Kira murmured, a touch of worry in her tone. “He’s not answering his cell.”

“I’ll go see what happened.” Scott stated. Stiles offered to come with but he declined, stating he’d call them as soon as he found Chris or Derek.

Scott left the green room and started his search in the stadium, on the stage and scanning the seats. Neither the manager or security head were there, so he checked the rest of backstage, bathrooms, and sound booth without luck.

He exited the stadium and made for the parking lot. He didn’t see anyone, but a noise from the truck where the band’s equipment was stored drew his attention.

“Derek dude, what’s the holdup? Everyone’s kind of spooked in there-” But it wasn’t his manager.

The kid with the baseball hat - he couldn’t be older than eighteen - stared at him. He held two of Scott’s extra guitars by their necks in each hand, with one of Erica’s bass guitars strapped to his back.

“The fuck are you doing?” Scott’s nostrils flared. “Drop our shit _now_ , and maybe I won’t call Boyd to beat your ass again.”

Snorting, the other male continued looting around the equipment, searching for more expensive instruments. At one point he dropped one of Scott’s guitars and moved for another one of Erica’s.

It was the red Rogue electric Boyd had bought her for their last anniversary. Recognizing it, Scott snapped out of his immobile stupor and jumped into the truck. He did the first thing he thought of, charging forward and tackling into the other’s waist to bring him down.

The teenager obviously hadn’t thought about being attacked. He had to drop the instruments in his hands in order to defend himself, though by that time Scott had him pinned under his weight. In his writhing he managed to land a few solid punches before Scott could hold his wrists down.

“Scott!” Derek’s shocked voice reached him before his manager came into view.

“Where the hell were you?” Scott cried, glaring at him. In that brief moment of distraction, the teenager under him arched his back before moving up suddenly, slamming his head into Scott’s.

He felt his teeth sink into his tongue, blood welling up in his mouth. “Fuck.”

Derek jumped into the truck and pushed Scott off the other guy’s chest. “Come on, let’s get you to a doctor.” He yanked the boy to his feet, shoving him out of the truck and pulling him along by his wrist. 

The manager led them around the front of the stadium, where Boyd was waiting with the police. The other teenager from earlier was already sitting in the backseat of one of the cruisers, and shouted expletives as Derek shoved the other boy in next to him.

On their way back to the green room, Scott could feel Derek’s eyes on him. He could tell the other was just dying to yell at him, though he seemed to be waiting for Scott to get looked at first.

“Hey, do me a favor?” Scott asked. “Don’t tell my mom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no Isaac in this chapter, but I promise he'll be in the next one or the one after!


End file.
